


Beyond a Doubt

by phantisma



Series: Keeper Verse [25]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-06
Updated: 2007-05-06
Packaged: 2017-11-13 13:39:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/504098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantisma/pseuds/phantisma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is hurt and he and Sam are hiding in the men's room of a rest stop somewhere in Arizona, waiting for Dana and Dean to find them.  There is conversation and compromise and an attempt by John to get Sam to start calling him "Dad".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beyond a Doubt

Sam’s body wasn’t happy with the situation, but considering that it was John that was leaving a trail of blood down the lonely desert back road, he wasn’t about to start complaining. It wasn’t noon yet and it was already somewhere near a hundred degrees.

He had his arm around his father’s shoulders, and his mind wrapped around his father’s too, dampening the pain, monitoring how bad things really were. He had lost a lot of blood, and it was getting harder to keep him moving.

Sam stopped them, letting John lean up against him. He squinted into the glare and cast about them for anything that resembled shelter. “There’s a rest stop up ahead.”

“How far?”

Sam chewed on his lip as he estimated, then cut the distance in half. “About a mile. Think you can handle it?”

John sighed and nodded. “Better than roasting to death out here. Dean?”

Sam shook his head. “No signal. He’ll be missing us soon though.”

When John seemed to have caught his breath, Sam set them out again. It was supposed to be a vacation. After they had put an end to Asmodai and with it, his contract on Dana, they had gone to Disneyland as part of their Missouri-ordered family therapy, the summer before.

Dean was determined to make summer vacation a tradition, and this time he’d picked Arizona. Three days at the Grand Canyon, then a drive down south for the state’s other fun. Dana had dragged Dean to Tombstone. John had caught wind of strange animal maulings taking down livestock a few hours away. Sam had come along for the ride, mostly because he had a few bad memories of Tombstone as a kid, and wasn’t in any hurry to revisit them.

The maulings turned out to be a trio of coyotes that were…possessed….or something. Sam had heard of animal possession before, but hadn’t ever seen it. Happened when people tried exorcising things they didn’t understand…or when they weren’t explicit in the instructions on where the displaced demon or demons should go.

They got the first two easily enough, blessed iron rounds through the brain…but the third one…Sam glanced at his father, who was nearly dead weight in his arms. His shirt was drenched with sweat, and his pants glistened with a deeper sheen. The bite was bad. Really bad. Sam had managed a bandage, cut out of his own shirt, but they were lost and it needed proper cleaning and real bandages. It needed him off his feet.

“Just hold on.” Sam hitched him up a little, taking his weight against his good side.

It seemed to take forever to get there…to get to the tiny shelters of covered picnic benches and charcoal grills, and concrete block bathrooms. Sam settled John onto the first table he found in a position that was actually shaded from the sun. He helped him lay down, cushioning John’s head with his ruined jacket that was tied around his waist.

“I’m going to take a look, okay?”

John gritted his teeth and nodded. “Yeah.”

Sam straightened the leg out and gently pulled the soaked cotton and then denim out of the wound. John hissed and Sam pulled back slightly. “Sorry.”

He got his first good look and made a face. “He tore you up.”

There was no response. Sam looked up. John’s eyes were closed. Sam sat heavily on the bench and sighed. They’d been walking forever. He wasn’t even sure what road this was or where they were.

He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and checked for a signal. Nothing. But, this was a rest stop. It should have pay phones.

He didn’t really want to leave his father alone and unconscious. He bit his lip and stood, peering around the rest stop. There were two pay phones by the wall of the bathroom. Sam dug around in his pocket for change as he jogged over to them. He grabbed the receiver on the nearest one and it came away in his hand, the cord cut through. “Fuck.”

He grabbed for the other one and lifted it to his ear. No dial tone. “Fuck. Fuck.”

He pulled a hand through his hair. John needed medical attention, more than Sam could give him here. He jogged back. They were both pretty sun burnt, and he couldn’t tell if the heat John was putting out was from that or if he was feverish.

_Think Sam_.

Okay. First things first. He had to clean up that bite as best he could, deal with the physical needs. Food, water. Then maybe he could reach Dana. The distance was pretty long…but if she was looking for him…maybe.

“John?” Sam touched his face, mentally reached out to scan him. “I need you to wake up, okay?”

His eyes opened, registering pain and confusion. Sam smiled for him. “Okay, good. I hate to do this, but we need to move you one more time.”

“Move?”

Sam nodded. “I need to clean you up, get you inside. The bathroom has water, towels. It should be cooler in there too.”

John lurched up and Sam caught him before he toppled off the table. “Okay, easy.” He got his feet on the ground, leaning heavily on Sam. “We’ll go slow.”

Half way to the men’s room, Sam sensed it. He stopped them and looked for it. “Shit.”

“Sam?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

Sam shook his head. “We have company.” John turned his head. The coyote sat across the parking lot, watching them. “Come on.” Sam tugged a little to get him moving again. They’d left a pretty clear trail to follow, so he wasn’t surprised. He’d just hoped the shot to it’s flank had hurt him bad enough that it would take longer to catch up.

“We got any ammo left?” John asked panting as Sam got him around the corner and into the men’s room. There was no door, just open air turns into a room with two stalls, two urinals, two sinks and not much else.

“Couple rounds. Let’s get you settled.” Sam got him over to the wall by the sinks and eased him down. “How’s your head?”

“Had worse. Leg. We need to…its hot.”

“I know. I’m guessing that coyote’s mouth wasn’t minty fresh and clean.” Sam turned the taps up on the nearer sink, knowing he wasn’t really going to get hot water.

“Check the door.”

Sam shook his head. “Let’s get this started first.” At least the paper towel dispenser was full. He soaked a bunch of them in the lukewarm water, then squatted next to John, squeezing the water over the wound. John hissed and Sam took a deep breath. “Stay with me, okay John? I need you to stay awake.”

His eyes opened wide as he tried to focus on Sam. “Wish you didn’t call me that.”

“What, John?” Sam lowered the wet mass down over the wound. “Its your name.”

John tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace. “Dad.”

Sam hung his head. It wasn’t the first time he’d asked. “You know I can’t.”

John pushed his hands away from the wound. “Check the door. I’ve got this.”

“Don’t get angry.” Sam said as he moved to the door, his hand on the gun in his belt. “It isn’t about you.” He peered around the wall. So far the animal hadn’t moved.

“I’m not angry.” John said. “I really wish I did know, Sam. Wish you would tell me.”

Sam looked back at him with a sad smile. “You don’t want all the sordid details.”

John’s eyes rolled closed and Sam came back to him. “Hey…I mean it. Can’t go to sleep.”

“I know…it’s the blood loss.”

“Yeah, you painted quite a trail out there.” Sam rolled his neck and rubbed his left hand over his right shoulder. His whole right side was on fire. Deep aches were starting to cross over that hidden line to deep pain. “Talk to me.”

“Want you to promise me something.” John said, making a reach for Sam’s hand.

“Sure. What?”

“You take good care of your brother, okay?”

Sam rolled his eyes and squeezed his father’s hand. “Stop. It’s way, way too early for that kind of talk.”

“No, not what I meant. You…you’re good…for him…want you to know. I want you to do that…don’t go away again…”

Sam snickered a little and nodded. “Not going anywhere.”

“And Dana…though I think in a few years, she’s gonna be the one taking care of all of us.” John panted for air, then shifted the wet towels. Most of the blood came away and Sam could get a better look at the wound. There were two deep puncture wounds that were still oozing blood and a tear where the coyote’s lower teeth had ripped the skin open.

“She’s a piece of work all right.” Sam said, trying to encourage him to keep talking. If he was talking, he was awake. “Okay, we’ve totaled my shirt, how about we try yours?”

It took a minute to get it off him and by the time he did, John was panting and a cold sweat covered his forehead. Sam ripped the shirt into several pieces, folded one and placed it over the wound, then used another piece to tie it down.

“John?” Sam snapped his fingers, touched his father’s face. His eyes fluttered open slowly.

“Sam? Must have…tired…”

“I know. Just stay with me a while longer, okay?”

Sam got up to check on the coyote. It had moved closer, but was sitting again, staring, as if trying to decide whether or not it was safe to move in. It was too far away for a clean shot, and he only had a few rounds left in the gun.

It was time to try to reach Dana.

He went to sit beside John. “I’m going to try to get Dana’s attention. You going to be okay for a few minutes?”

John nodded. Sam closed his eyes and tried to still his mind. They were more than a few hours over due, but that wouldn’t mean much…not when they’d set off after such a nebulous set of clues. Dean wouldn’t begin to worry for another couple of hours.

Fortunately for Sam, Dana fretted a little more easily. The wall between them had evolved since the incident on the mountain. It wasn’t simply up or down anymore…but an intricate system of layers and levels controlled on both sides. All he could hope was that she wasn’t in full lock down mode. If she was, all he could do was leave the mental equivalent of a note for her to find when she lowered the wall.

That was provided he could find her at all.

He exhaled slowly and let himself center, calm. He could sense John at his side…the coyote moving around them…he felt his way down the road they’d traveled to get here, over the rocky terrain to the place where the two coyotes lay dead. From there he found his way back to the truck, pulled off the road near a big boulder.

He was pretty sure that this was a different road than the one they had found. _Dana._ He threw the thought out and away, in the general direction he knew would take it to Dana. He followed it, listening, feeling his way.

It was too much. He could feel himself starting to drift, could feel other sensitives, other psychics around the edges, but Dana was elusive. It didn’t help that he was tired…that he was hurting…and it dulled his concentration, dragged him off on paths he didn’t want to follow.

_Dana_.

It was all he could do for the moment and he pulled himself back, settling in to his body. His father was dead weight against him. The coyote was pacing, still not coming closer, but pacing.

“John? You still with me?”

“Dad.” John grunted.

Sam swallowed hard. “We still talking about that?”

“Gotta talk about something…so I don’t sleep.”

“Gotta be something better to talk about.”

John sank slowly until he was laying with his head on Sam’s thigh. “I think you should at least tell me why.”

Sam was quiet, considering all the reasons. “That’s what I called _him_ ,” he finally said softly. “You’re not like him.” All these years and the word still made him cringe. The man had been dead for fourteen years.

“I’m not him.” John countered.

“I know.” Sam pressed a hand to John’s face. It was hot, but he still wasn’t sure if it was from the sun or the wound. “You might even like me some day.”

Sam started as John’s eyes flew open and he sat up quickly. “What makes you think I don’t like you?”

“You need to lay back. Rest.”

“Answer me.”

Sam shook his head. “It’s not important.”

John caught his hand and pulled on it to get Sam to look at him. “It’s important to me.”

Sam shifted uncomfortably. “You…I don’t think…” He sighed. “Okay. Because you’ve been hunting things like me your whole life.”

John stiffened and shook his head. “No.”

“Yes. Come on, think about it. I’m a monster, John. You know it. I know it. Hell, even Dana knows it. The only reason I’m still alive is because of Dean.”

John closed his eyes. Sam was tempted to read what was going on in his head. “Sam. That isn’t the only reason. You’re my son.”

Sam shook his head. “Biologically, maybe. You’ve never seen me as your child.”

“I never knew you as a child. You are my son. I want you to realize that.”

Sam settled his head against the wall and sighed again. “No, John…I’m the man who sleeps in your son’s bed. I’m the man who seduced him and hexed him and nearly got him killed.” Sam reached down to lay a hand alongside the t-shirt bandage on John’s thigh, feeling for heat…for infection. It came away bloody. “Shit, you’re bleeding again.”

Sam shifted, lowering John’s head to the floor. “Lie still, let me see what I can do.”

“Sam?”

“Just lay still.”

“No, Sam, look up.”

Sam lifted his eyes. The coyote stood in the doorway, growling, teeth bared. Sam reached slowly for the gun, keeping eye contact. “We’ve only got two rounds left,” he said softly.

“Take it slow. You winged it before.”

Sam nodded, lifting the weapon. The coyote didn’t move, didn’t flinch. Sam licked his lips and cocked the gun. Right between the eyes. It was the only shot that mattered. Anything else would just piss it off.

Sam felt along the barrel of the gun, along the line of sight, making sure the shot lined up. He held his breath while he pulled the trigger.

_Sam!_

He pulled up, but not before it was too late to pull the shot. The iron round buried itself in the animal’s shoulder. It yelped and bolted. Sam dropped the gun and reached for her. _Dana._

He got the sense that she was really working to reach him. He dropped his side of the wall completely and grabbed onto her and together they strengthened the connection. _Where are you?_

Sam shook his head. _Not completely sure. Find the truck. Contact me again._

She was relaying the information to Dean. _Dad’s pissed. Are you hurt?_

Of course Dean was pissed. They’d ruined his vacation. _I’m not. Papa is._

Under him, John was squirming, trying to figure out why Sam had missed and gone silent. _Danger?_

Dana was tiring rapidly. It was a long distance to ask a child to reach across. _I’m handling it. Just find the truck._

Sam opened his eyes. “Dana. They’re coming our way.”

“And the coyote?”

Sam nodded. He hurt and he was tired…but until the coyote was dealt with…”I’ve got it. You rest.”

“Sam—“

“John….let me deal with it, okay? Just this once, recognize that you’re human and can’t do everything.”

“I don’t—okay, maybe I do. Just be careful.”

Sam nodded and picked the gun back up. The damn coyote was going to be angry now. Angry and hurt and possessed by a mother-fucking demon.

Some things just shouldn’t be true. This was one of them. He made his way out of the bathroom. There was blood. Dark, nearly black drops of blood. He emerged into the light of early afternoon, bright, blinding and searing heat that pounded at him from the concrete beneath his feet and the sun above his head. He blinked, feeling sweat from on his forehead and neck.

“Okay little doggie bastard, where the hell did you go?”

It was laying in the tiny puddle of shade beneath a yucca tree, panting and staring. The wound in it’s shoulder oozed. It’s eyes were black, inky and unnatural. Sam raised the gun again and took two steps closer.

The coyote sat up, licking it’s chops and turning to face Sam squarely. “You just sit there pretty like that, and I’ll just put this last bullet between your eyes, okay?”

Two steps closer and the coyote stood, growling. It wasn’t going to wait. Sam could almost feel its anger as it shifted on its feet. He wanted to get close enough that he wouldn’t miss. Only one bullet left. One chance to put the damn thing down.

His shoulder screamed at him as he tried to hold the gun steady. The coyote was moving now, coming toward him, fast. Sam back pedaled, lost his footing and hit the hard ground. The gun skittered away and the coyote was on top of him moments later. Sam’s big hands caught its jaws before it could bite down on his face, and he rolled them.

Sam hissed as four feet dug into his stomach, tearing bare skin easily. He let go with one hand and punched the damn thing in the face, then rolled them again, trying to get to the gun.

Teeth sank into his lower left arm, even as he got close enough to reach the weapon. He yelled and pulled himself free, his right hand closing over the gun. The coyote was on top of him again and Sam shoved the barrel of the gun up under its chin, firing and turning away.

The coyote fell, dead weight on top of him, oozing dark blood over what was left of his clothing. He lay still for a moment, panting, then held up his left arm to assess the damage. It wasn’t as bad as it might have been.

He shoved the animal off of him and climbed to his feet. “John?” He got back to the bathroom and John was unconscious. Sam fell to his knees beside him. He was burning up and it was well beyond the sunburn at this point.

“Okay…I don’t know if you can hear me John, but I have to…I have to go inside. I…I might be able to stop the bleeding…But I have to…and I promised I never would, not without permission. So…I’ll do my best, okay?”

Sam licked his lips and put his injured left hand on John’s wounded thigh, then his right hand over his face. He’d been in Dana’s mind, Dean’s…even Missouri’s. He’d never been inside John’s.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, reaching out tentatively. The first thing he encountered was pain. He dampened that down, and reached past it. John’s mind was an ordered place. He felt John’s body stiffened as Sam woke him and he recognized that something wasn’t right.

_Easy. Just trying to keep you from bleeding to death on me._

Sam scanned down John’s physical body until he found the wound. _I’m not a healer, John…but maybe I can…_ There. Right there. One of the puncture wounds had nicked the artery, that’s why it kept bleeding. _I can maybe hold it closed until we get help._

He pulled back, keeping his connection solely with the wound. He opened his eyes and John was looking at him. “Promise, didn’t see anything. Just—“

“I trust you, Sam.” John said softly.

Sam looked away. That was maybe something he didn’t expect. Their relationship had never been based on trust or affection. It was based on Dean’s insistence that they try to get along.

John was fading on him though. He’d lost enough blood that Sam was genuinely worried he’d bleed out. He was in shock. He was burning up. “Just don’t die on me. I don’t think I could face Dana if I let you die.”

“Not going anywhere.” John murmured, repeating his own words back to him.

They sat quietly for a while, then John moved, turning his head. “I love you Sam.”

Sam blinked, nearly lost his hold on the artery in John’s leg. “What?”

“I’ve never said it. I wanted to say it.”

“John…I—“

John shook his head. “No. I do, Sam. You just have to accept it.”

“It’s the pain talking.” Sam said before he could pull it back. He was not comfortable with sudden declarations of love. He’d been with Dean more than fourteen years and he still wasn’t comfortable when Dean said it sometimes. “Just lay still and hold on.”

“Not the pain. You need to know.” John licked his lips. “In case.”

“Stop.” Sam stood up and walked away, over by the sink. “Let’s try to get some water into you.” He washed the blood from his hands and soaked more paper towels, bringing them dripping wet to where his father lay on the floor. “Open.” He squeezed water into John’s mouth, watching him swallow.

“I’m not sure I can hold out until they get here.” John said softly when Sam had walked away again.

“You’re going to be fine.”

“Sam.”

He shook his head, pacing around John. “Sam, I want you to come here and do something for me.”

Sam sank to his knees beside his father. “What?”

“I want to show you something, but I don’t know how…A memory. In my mind.”

“You want me to…read you?”

John nodded. “I want you to see. Please?”

It was the last thing Sam wanted, truth be told. “What memory?”

John shook his head. “Just tell me what to do.”

Sam bit his lip and sighed. “Okay. Just, think about it. Bring it up to the front of your mind. Make it the only thing you’re thinking about. That way I don’t have to go deep, and I won’t get into stuff you don’t want me to.”

“I trust you, Sam.”

That was twice. Sam bowed his head and closed his eyes. This was exhausting. Dean was so much easier. “Okay. Close your eyes and try to relax.”

He exhaled and reached out, surprised when John’s presence was instantly in reach, right there, the bubble of memory held firmly in place. _I’m here._

John didn’t really use words, but drew Sam into the memory. Sam gasped and might have pulled out, if not for the fact that it would likely have hurt John. He only knew the woman in the hospital bed from a brief encounter with her ghost when Dana was still an infant.

She was smiling, long blond hair hanging over one shoulder. John stood beside the bed and a shaggy headed four year old was sitting on the end of the bed. They were all staring at the infant in the woman’s arms. A wave of warmth swept through Sam, looking down at his mother from his father’s eyes….looking at himself, at the infant John knew. John lifted the baby, cradled him to his shoulder.

_Hey Sam…I’m Daddy. Your Daddy._

Sam could feel the smile, the incredible outpouring of love that reminded him of Dana. The memory started to flicker, and John’s conscious ability to hold it was fading. Sam directed them out, slowly opening his eyes. It took John longer. “Shit.” He shouldn’t have done it. It took too much out of John. “Hey…come on. Open your eyes.”

Slowly, John’s eyes opened. “That’s it. Need you to stay with me.”

“See?” John croaked the word. “Love you.”

Sam hung his head. He didn’t want to keep arguing the point. He wasn’t sure why he was arguing the point. He wanted to tell him that it was different, that he wasn’t that infant…but John knew that…John knew he wasn’t a good man. It was flustering him and he wasn’t sure why.

_Sam?_

The connection with Dana was suddenly strong. They were closer, much closer. _Where are you?_

“Dana.” Sam murmured when he felt John’s hand on his.

_Found the truck…followed tracks. Found dead coyotes…and blood._

Sam nodded. _Can you follow the trail and find us?_

He could feel her rub against him. _It’s Papa, isn’t it? It heads north…then west. Are you okay?_

_Rest stop, Dana. We’re in the men’s room._

She was talking to Dean, but Sam couldn’t feel him. He wasn’t close enough yet. _We’re on our way. Dad seems to think he knows where you are._

Sam lowered himself to sit against the wall again, lifting John’s head to rest on his thigh again. “They’re coming. They’ll be here soon.”

John groaned and Sam put a hand to his face. “We’ll have you in a hospital by dinner, you hear me John?”

He wasn’t talking, Sam could feel the exhaustion pulling at him and reached out one more time for his mind…not really invading it…just letting his thoughts touch lightly. _I’ll make a deal with you._

He felt John’s response, even though there were no words. _You stay alive until we can get you help, and I’ll call you Dad from now on._

“Deal.” John’s voice was small, but Sam was relieved. He settled back against the wall. He could do that. He could push it all away and give him that much. After all, John’s son was stolen from him and Sam was what he’d gotten in return. Not a really fair trade.

“Deal.” Sam echoed, his eyes closing. He concentrated on keeping the artery closed and making sure John was still alive.

Sam was in and out of conscious thought when he felt Dana exploding at him in a fit of relief and concern. Dean brushed against him and he opened his eyes. John’s breathing was shallow, but he was still breathing. Dean came around the corner of the bathroom entrance and skidded to a stop.

“Sam?”

Sam smiled. “I’m good. Dad…he…it’s bad.”

“Dad?” Dean looked at him quizzically, but crossed to them, dropping to one knee beside John. He peeked under the bandage.

“Nicked the artery. I’ve been keeping it closed….but he needs…more.”

“I got it Sam.” He hadn’t even heard Dana come in, but he could feel her sliding down the tendril of concentration and into the wound, taking over the sealing of the tiny prick in the artery.

“Can you stand?”

Sam nodded as Dean lifted John’s head out of his lap. “I only got a scratch.” Dean and Dana got John up and supported between them and Sam followed them out to the Impala.

In a few minutes they were roaring down the road toward the nearest town with medical care. Sam closed his eyes and let himself sink into the comfort of having Dean beside him. He could relax, let Dean and Dana take care of John.

The tired pulled on him and he let it…relinquishing all of it and falling into the dark of sleep

 

“Sam?’’ He felt a hand on his face and opened his eyes. “Hey, we’re here.”

“Here?” He blinked and looked around him. Dean smiled at him, though it was laced in concern. They were parked in the ER parking lot of some hospital.

“Dad’s inside. Dana’s with him. Let’s get a look at you.”

“I’m fine.” Dean’s fingers found the bite and Sam hissed.

“Yeah, fine.” Dean chuckled a little. “You had me worried. What the hell happened out there?”

“Coyotes.” Sam said, rubbing gently at sun burnt skin under his eyes. “They were possessed, I think.”

Dean shook his head. “We should get this cleaned up.”

Sam stiffened and shook his head. “Said I was fine.”

Dean held up his arm, turning it so Sam could get a good look at the bite mark. “Yeah, not fine. Get your ass out of the car and inside or I’ll knock you out and drag you.”

Sam considered arguing, but decided it wasn’t worth it. He could handle a little triage. Easier than doing it himself anyway. He let Dean help him up out of the car and into the ER.

 

John’s face was bright red with sunburn as Sam settled into the chair by his bed. Dean and Dana had gone to get them rooms at a nearby motel. John’s eyes opened, sparkling as they fell on Sam. “Made it.”

Sam nodded. “Yeah. I see that.”

“You look like shit.”

Sam chuckled. The nurse who had finished bandaging his arm had said much the same. “I know. I need some sleep.” He stretched out his legs. “I’ll go when Dean gets back.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

Sam nodded. “I know. Dad.” He tried to make it casual, like it was perfectly normal. He couldn’t help but feel the joy that rolled off of John. “Let’s not make it a thing…okay?”

John nodded and smiled. “Yeah. Okay.” John fiddled with the IV feeding blood into him. “It means a lot to me.”

“I know.”

“And I hope you’ll be able to see me as your father…because…I want you to be my son.”

Sam blinked against sudden emotion, and couldn’t meet his father’s eyes. He wasn’t used to this from him. From Dana, from Dean…he’d learned to tolerate it, accept it for what it was. But John had always held a measure of doubt…and that doubt had helped Sam remember who he was, and not get lost in the image of himself that came from Dean.

“Sam?”

He licked his lips and leaned forward. “If you’re sure…”

John’s fingers slipped into Sam’s hand. “I’m sure, Sam. Beyond a doubt, it’s what I want.”

Sam smiled and nodded. It didn’t go all the way to his heart, but…this was important to the man, and it beat the animosity that often reared up between them. “It won’t be easy for me. But I’m willing to try.”

“Say it for me again?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Dad.”

John’s eyes closed and he nodded, even as he drifted back to sleep. “Dad.” Sam said again, softly, his thumb tracing lines on the back of his hand.

“I like the sound of that.” Dean said softly behind him before Sam turned.

“I made a promise.”

“Told you we’re family.” Dean whispered.

Sam yawned and Dean put a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, Dana’s getting coffee. She’s going to sit with him for a while.”

“I’m tired enough I’m not going to argue.”

“Good. I filled your prescription and you’re going to take one and go to sleep.”

Sam yawned again and let Dean lead him out. Too tired to argue, too exhausted from dealing with John—Dad—and the whole experience. His body ached and he was ready to sleep. For a week. Then Dean’s thoughts snaked into him and he smiled. Okay…maybe not a week.


End file.
